Left (Left 1)

“Yes, and they make the best lovers.”

“It’s not that easy.”

She clucks her tongue and continues whipping my eyebrows into shape. “You’re making it harder than it needs to be. Sit up.”

I sit up from the table she put up for my visit and take the silver handled hand mirror from her. “Look in the mirror.” I study my reflections admiring the sharp points of my newly groomed eyebrows.

“They look awesome.”

“Of course, they do. What do you see?”

I study my reflection. My eyes are full of anxiety, and my lips are turned down. “ I see I’m stressed.”

“Houston,” I smile. “If the very thought of him does that to you. That’s all you need to know.”

“Damnit, Ef.”

“You can thank me, by making me maid of honor at your wedding.”

“NO need to move at warp speed.”

“By my account, y’all are at least two years behind. Nothing about this will be slow.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me figure things out. His birthday is tomorrow, and I have to show my face.”

“I’ll help you by taking you to the mall so you can pick out some new lingerie for you future boo.”

“Is this where you ignore my reality and insert you own?”

“No, this is where I give you the truth wither you want to hear it or not. That’s your man. Has been for a long time now. It takes more than copulation to cement a relationship.”

“Now you sound like him,” I mumble.

Ef laughs. “Knew I liked him for a reason.”

“I can’t wait until you finally get into a serious relationship.”

“Oh no, I like my life unpredictable and fancy free, babe. When someone books me. I like being able to jump on a plane, into a car, without a thought about anyone else. I don’t even own a fish. What the hell would I do with an entire person?” Ef asks looking genuinely disgusted.

Her lip and nose curl up as if she’s discovered a rancid item in the fridge.

“People aren’t pets. Ef. Unless, you’re into that type of thing. I never judge.”

“Girl, please. I have enough problems making choices for myself.” I laugh. “Do you feel better at least?” she asks.

“Yes?”

“You’re impossible, you know th

at?” she snatches the mirror from me and lays it on a small wooden table. “Come, let me ply you with wine, pluck you for more information, and help you decide what you’re wearing to see Houston tomorrow. Mama is going to get you laid.”

“Ugh, Ef. I need an impartial third party.”

“Whenever have I ever not had an opinion?” she asks.

“Point taken,” I say as I climb from the bench and follow her out to the kitchen. She reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of Moscato. She pops the cork while I pull down two wine glasses. The hand painted stemware is a reminder of a weekend trip we took. I set them down.

“What did you get your boo for his birthday anyway?” she asks as I pour the wine.